News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-12-15

g with that Snu1- ppm L elder gal. Shet
s done been the ruin OF Liza Already. IT
e was a-despisin' of my family an he mean
to insult me by knockin' my boy down.
amt a-killin his'n, if I'm a-lettin' it die
? Tain't my business to pick it up an tot
q it home. No, sir hit kin Law thar
Q What if me an him was friends. We,
q a-been so now if it hadn't a-been fo
4 that"
T 1t seemed as if two little hand
q touched him from behind. He turned
B and looked at the fence, expecting t,
n see them. He cringed and walked
a across the road; he would go into tn,
i house and get away from fences anC
Y fields.
Matty was sitting on the front steps
| singing. Here was something cheer
> full at last. He sat down beside her anc
! the first thing she did was to rest hel
head against his ARM He rose angrily
) and asked for his .;4a>>>-then he seated
, filled the pipe anI T-7%ght it to hei
father; then she sat on the step and
went on with her singing. The girl had 6
lover who liked her good nature and
did not object to her shiftlessness, so she
thought about him as she sung.
1t was quiet, lonely time for Nathan.
Where was the little head resting now
In this darkness2 Baby Stafford was
alone in the night; the dew had al
ready fallen upon him. Was he sob
bing now or had sleep brought him
restl A sound of mems voices was heard
down the road and Matty said: "Listen.
pa, that's Stafford and the Turner boys.
They're a-huntin' of Baby. [ recken
they'll stop hyer agin."
Nathan listened, and heard one of
the men say: ''I'll stop an asst Felder's
folks If he's been thar" "No," Ezra
answered, 81 asst Matty to-day; they
don know. I'm feared they amt no
hope" A cold perspirationi stood on
Nathan's face and hands, but he held
himself still in his chair until they
were gone. When the last sound of
their horses feet had died away, Matty
rose with a yawn and said: "Hitll be
right bad if they don't fin Baby an
| Miss Stafford dies. - There was no
answer, SO she started into the house
with careless Goodnight, pa; I'm
going to bed"
When she was gone the light from
-NoOllnb . plIJC "CLlI OiU, anu dS bIle COOl
breeze of the night shook the trees, the
child voice seemed borne to him, call
ing and crying: "I reckon his pail find
i'm to-morrer, an maybe he won't a
done no more'n ketched cold. Like as
not he's sound asleep a'ready" But
what q sleep! The little face wet with
dew, and drawn with terror and loneli-
ness. Perhaps he had been hungry.
Matty said he had been gone all day.
This was new thought and the pers-
piration came ont damper and colder on
Nathan's face and hands as he clung
tightly to the rounds of his chair.
''Well, [ amt to blame. / give him
the apple, anyhow, an he ct it. This
thought nerved him again So far from
killing the boy he had given the little
one the only food he had eaten since
the morning. OF course he would not
have done it if he had known, but that
did not change what had been.
AnyTay if d11r"f ad boy gra.sd dies me tn ant
th9Hgt t oI3iG If TO tatti ii s.i' tiI9d nt t
shut out that twilight scene, the green
field, the trusting child lying before
him, with closed eyes and trembling
mouth, feeling that friend and not
Death kept watch above him. Nathan
felt the stone in his hand, and he made
motion to thrust it away from him.
He rose, it was getting late and chilly,
he would go to bed. He went inside and
buttoned the door. Everything was
dark, and as he went toward the match
safe, near which his candle stood, his
face touched something soft ana warm.
1t was Matty's shawl which hung on a
nail near the matches. The candle was
lighted, and Nathan went to his room
and sat on the edge of his bed. The
passion had gone from his face and left
it pale and weary. "Hit's been hard
fight, but [ amt whipped yit, he said,
as he began to unite his shoes; San I'm
blamed if I'm agoin' to be" Once more
the flare of anger was in his face
''Hit's the fust chance in all these years
I've had to git even; but I'm jest as
lonesome an no count as [ ever was.
Like the fickering rays of a candle,
passion was gone again. ''Hit must be
about midnight, an I amt sleepy one
bit. 1 wisht Matty'd a-stayed up
longer, that would n sorter bolstered
me up. I amt good for nothin' by my
SELF
Both shoes were united now, but he
did not let them slip from his feet. He
made no further effort at undressing
himself, but leaned over and rested his
head on the pillow. It was very soft to
his tired head, but he could not stay so.
He sprang bolt upright and sat there for
a moment, then he slowly pulled his
silver watch out Of his pocket and looked
at it. ''Pas' midnight, he said with
sigh. Then he rose, took his candle and
went into the passage way to the nail
where Mattys shawl was hanging. He
took the shawl down, blew ont his can
die and crept softly out the front door.
On he went, through the still, dark
night, down the lonely roadway and
across the broad fields, his heart throb.
bling and every nerve strained to the
highest tension. He listened, and lis
tened, and longed for that voice; he
crossed the foot bridge over the creek,
and heard again the sobbing in the
water then he quickened his steps till
his breath came short, and in the corn
field he was obliged to stop for rest. BE
hone came to him, I5ssf1Fs,.aal boy Ind
been found and was asleop in his moth
er,s arms. But this hope died and left
a cold sinking in his heart when he
neered through the fence and saw a dark
little figure lying close beside it. The
story was easy to read. After long
wotchino and calling through the bars
fb;s homeless. tired little lamb had fallen
and slept A baby all day and all night
y;tbont home. without mother, and
w;tbo1t ] food Nathan felt it all, and he
Iaanod the fence and touched the child's
M face and hands listened for his
Iraatb;ng. then he wrapped the shawl
around the boy and took hlm gently IN
his arms. 1t was harder work to cllmo
the fences and walk through the nelds
now. but was ever buroeh sWeetef ana
holieri
There were ninety ana NM 'h"' s"lely i"J'
In the shelter of the toiu,
But one had wandered tar away
To the desert so lone ana colu'
.T dom know what makes them lines
how, q ,1,nnin' in my he'd, now, Ma
tboP ~ +bonoht That lamb blonged to
tha th[, shan5erd. an hyer l am totin' an
In. oti6 Mans lamb Jest fer no reason on
the arth but me mol li"'in puck Gil
enough to leave it lone:
Baby Stafford's arms tlgh'ened round
! Nathan's neck. w. tho ro44 -,
II don't know what's tne matter WI
me. Niggers ain't got no respect Tor
me cause I'm so easy Bolr n. with EN-;
Rut | never'd a thought a toted
Stafford's boy home let IL ntin-ln tne
night. too. If I'd been n1ll nTlon man @ IA
n shot Ezra years ago. l a;'r : was III
the back woods that nl8nG ailllln s4uar
at him an the trigger a io.'NE Pulleo'
WI wnen nn an sneaRed ne T outen the woods like